As an easily recognizable émigré the one question I am asked more that any other is what set of wonderfully intriguing circumstances brought an unapologetic Britisher to visit the most delightful, but distant shores of Orcas island. My answer tends to be variable and distinctly vague, largely because the truth is almost too patently obvious to prove of any particular outside interest. Curiosity is of course the simple answer, to see for myself those particulars I had heard of much about, the charm, the camaraderie, that wonderous ambience that washes over all visitors as they make landfall.
A distinctly better question to ask would be what particular charm or combination of circumstances inclines me to stay, indeed, to not even consider another transplantation this side of the pearly gates. The answer to that conundrum is equally singular and simplistic, and in its answering reflects more about me,, my character, upbringing. social preferences, my very ‘raisin d’etre’, than I might easily be persuaded to elucidate.
The more obvious charms of the Isle, the endless scenic panoramas, the superb vegetation, the abundant fauna, and of course the people, the Orcans as I am inclined to describe them, friendly, philanthropic, socially well balanced, inclusive, and consistently somewhat bizarre, all these wonderous advantages would be equally as good a reason to eternally remain as any other, but none fulfill my one exacting criteria, only the inexhaustible changeable and unpredictable nature of climate can accomplish that.
I am at heart a perfect representative of that most meteorological fixated race of all, the British, whose focus is momentary driven quite indefatigably by the very concept of unpredictability and abides in a state of continual preparedness for each and every climatic circumstance possible. Thought, conversation, dress, occupation, romance, family, all are driven, controlled, molded, by but the one overriding singular uncertainty, whether to simply carry an umbrella, or wear a hat, scarf, and gloves. Empire twas never built on tea, was rather constructed wearing galoshes and an oiled skin coat.